Criticism

October 18, 2011

The phrase “throw in the towel” comes from the sport of boxing.  It recalls a manager throwing a towel into the ring to stop a bout in which his boxer is getting badly beaten.

Over the years I watched a lot of administrators of schools and school sports throw in the towel as they’ve watched their ideas and ideals get bruised and battered, and as they suffered constant and frequently unfair criticism.

Criticism is a fickle thing.  It can be motivating or maddening.  To some people criticism is one or the other; to other people criticism sometimes has a positive effect, sometimes the opposite.

Criticism from a well-informed source who has tried to see the matter from multiple perspectives and who delivers the opinion privately will almost always have two positive effects.  First, it will influence future thought processes and decisions.  Second, it will establish a closer relationship – even a good friendship – between the parties.

It is criticism based on bad information or from a biased viewpoint delivered by gossip or in group settings that is least productive to the cause and most poisonous to the community.

But even bad news badly delivered can be motivating.  While sometimes it may give rise to brief thoughts of “why bother?”, it more often motivates me to work harder, to serve better, to think wider and deeper, and to give more.  This reaction is a result of many life experiences, including school and college sports participation.

Those of us who played competitive athletics were subject to much criticism throughout our playing careers.  Sometimes it was unfair, and we learned to rise above it.  But usually the criticism was from a coach who knew his or her stuff, who thought we could do better, and who was giving us the information to become better.  While some people merely survive criticism, competitive athletics can teach us how to thrive on it.

Seeing the Whole Field

September 20, 2013

I spent almost all of my days as a competitive athlete in a position where all the other players were in my field of vision.

From the age of 10 until I gave up baseball at 20, I was a catcher. I spent my entire career in foul territory, observing the other players in fair, the entire diamond before me.

In basketball I was what we now call a “point guard.” As I brought the ball up court, the other nine players were in front of me.

As a high school and college football player, I was a defensive safety. No one was to get behind me; and at every snap, 21 other players were in my field of vision.

I’ve always known that participation in sports shaped very much of my character; but only recently – nearer the end of my professional career than to the start – am I seeing the whole field and appreciating the fullness of that influence. For example:

  • To be the one who asks for the fast ball or curve. Or the change-up when it’s needed.
  • To be the one who sets up each play and delivers the pass to get it started. And watching others score.
  • To be the one who makes the tackle when no one else is left to do so.
  • And most of all, to see the whole field; to see all of one’s teammates and observe how they all are indispensable to a winning performance.